Thank you, thank you, 112 times thank you

I was so busy not posting for so long, then posting my brains out at the beginning of bedrest, that I failed to notice my 100th post. This is actually post #112. My blogaversary is in a month (May 30th), so it's hard to decide what to spend all my party funds on. Do I get an ice cream cake and cut it into 100 slices to commemorate my posts? Or do I get a pinata of some sort, fill it with empty vials and used needles, then smash it to smithereens on May 30th? (Yes, I know that's dangerous, I'm only kidding here.)

Anyway, thank you so much for those of you who have taken the time to read my ramblings. Whether you're part of the Braces Bunch crew who have been kind enough to read mostly from the beginning, whether you've been reading for 6 months, or whether this is your first time reading (sorry it's so dull today), thank you. Your comments have helped me more than any mere words can possibly say. The friendships I've had the fortune to cultivate -- including the in-person ones with the Order of the Plastic Uterus ladies -- are ones that I treasure beyond description. I absolutely, undoubtedly, most definitely would have gone stark, raving mad if I didn't have your support. I wish I was kidding, but I'm not.

I became a fairly boring blogger once I got pregnant this time. I had no idea what to say, I couldn't bear the thought of being a whiner. I'm sure I lost many a reader due either to my pregnant state (which I completely understand) or due to my lame-ass posts (which I completely understand). I was never diligent enough to pay attention to my subscription numbers to see if they rose or fell over the year. I definitely get less comments now, but that's okay too. What's crazy is that when I get my sitemeter reports, I'm still getting lots and lots of hits per day and per week. So I suspect that people are still reading, they just aren't commenting.

This is all fine. Except now that I have nothing but time to lounge around on my ass and think, I'm starting to wonder just who is reading. Never mind that on numerous occasions I have noticed that the location is frighteningly close to home -- often times just a city or two away. I'm not terribly worried about that because the smack that I talk about people is typically the same things I say to them in person anyway. However, I'm intrigued by how I get so many hits and so few comments.

Here is where I let my insecurity hang out. As soon as Mel posted a little while back about how she wondered who was still reading (since her comment numbers were down), I thought, "Right on. I wonder the same thing myself." So I'm asking if you wouldn't mind letting me know you are out there. A simple, "Yup, I read your crappy posts. I just don't comment because they aren't comment-worthy" would be fine. (Obviously you could skip the hostile tone, but you get the point.)

In the meantime, please accept my most sincere thanks for being my support system this past year. It's a rare and delicate gift, these friendships, and one that I don't ever take for granted.